


a fractured heart (repeated, over time)

by MatildaSwan



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Groundhog Day (1993) Fusion, Angst with no happy ending, F/F, Heavy Angst, Mental Health Issues, in case that's a fritz for anyone, sexual content+bittersweet happy times, there's some car accidents and a pulverised hand too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: Bernie thought she’d lived the worst day of her life. She thought she’d lived it, that day was over, thought it was done.She was wrong.





	a fractured heart (repeated, over time)

**Author's Note:**

> content warning in the tags, but to reiterate: major character deaths, car accidents + a pulverised hand, serious mental health issues, sexual content, bittersweet feels, angst w no happy ending.
> 
> So I decided to do a rewatch of Holby before Bernie return and remembered that I never got around to cross posting this Angstfest and a half to ao3. Hopefully I'll follow it up with something a little brighter, but I like having all my finished fic here for posterity purposed. 
> 
> So if this content is your jam, enjoy as much as you can *passes the tissues*

Bernie thought she’d lived the worst day of her life: the day she found Serena by Jason’s hospital bed, stood in the doorway with face full of regret, to shatter Serena’s heart without a word. She thought she’d lived it, that day was over, thought it was done.

She was wrong. It happened again. Then again, and again, and again.

It’s the only thing that happens now.

She doesn’t know how, or why, just that this is it: the only day she lives, over and again.

It always ends the same, with Elinor dying and Serena breaking; that’s the only way it ever ends, on a continuous, never-ending loop.

*

It starts the same way, every day, the same as before: Bernie wakes up with a smiling Serena in her arms and watches her become a hollowed out husk by day’s end.

She tries to change it, tries to save them; she tries everything she can to save them. Takes Jasmine to surgery with her, leaving Morven on AAU; hopes a more experienced doctor will catch the signs. Sends Raf in to Jason’s surgery with strict instructions and does Ellie’s obvs herself, only to find she’s already too late and Jason doesn’t make it. Races through Jason’s surgery with practiced hand and rushes down to the ward to do everything herself only for Elinor to code before neuro can get the clot.

Nothing works. Elinor always dies. Sometimes Jason does too. One day Serena sits by her daughter’s deathbed and loses both of her children in a single afternoon.

She makes Raf ask about organ harvesting.

*

She thought that was worst of it, those days were the worst of all; the days when Serena loses them both, when Bernie loses them all.

Until Serena gets hurt.

They won’t let her operate; won’t let her help. They have to lock her in the family room to stop her torturing herself watching Raf and Morven and Jac and Mo try their best to try save the women she loves when she can’t do a thing to help.

Their best isn’t good enough and she never makes it off the table.

Bernie walks into the empty theatre, clean and shining, not a trace left behind. But she swears she can still feel Serena in the room, still feel her near the wall by the sink, under the window where they first kissed. She sinks to the floor and prays she’ll wake up with the feeling of Serena in her arms. Leans up against the wall and prays, staring into the space where Serena once sat, until she feels Serena slipping away.

She doesn’t move, even then, not even when security comes to usher her out.

It takes four of them and a dislocated shoulder before she’s forcibly removed from the theatre.

*

She wakes up with a bundle of Serena beside her, a familiar crop of hair tickling her nose, and blinks back tears. She breathes in, snuggles closer, clings tighter. Just five more minutes; she’s got the time, just five minutes more.

She tries to keep Serena back for five minutes, keep her from running after Elinor for five minutes.

Not that it helps. Elinor gets them both that day: lacerates Jason’s liver with the bonnet and pulverises Serena’s hand with a front wheel.

Jason survives. Serena doesn’t. Can’t, really, not without her hand.

‘I might as well be dead,’ she spits at Bernie. ‘If I can’t operate, I’d rather be dead.’

Bernie feels bile rise, sickening, coats her throat.

She listens when Serena tells her to go and leaves the ward and lets Elinor die on the bathroom floor. She hears Jasmine’s calls for help echo through the corridor and can’t even bring herself to care.

*

She starts skiving off. Bernie Wolfe hasn’t shirked responsibility a day in her life but something’s broken inside her. She knows it’s her heart, her soul that’s shattered, slicing right through to her core. She needs to get away.

She wakes at the crack of dawn to watch Serena sleep, peaceful and content, for those last few precious moments, before getting up. Gets out of bed, gets dressed, gets in the car and drives.

Some days she tracks down Cam and does her best to withstand an afternoon with him and his new girlfriend. She’s a few years younger than Keeley, and didn’t know him growing up, so she thinks that’s some progress at least. Other days she shuffles uncomfortably on Charlotte’s couch while her daughter offers her tea so she doesn’t have to look her in the eyes. Most days she just drives till she falls asleep at the wheel; wakes up in a ditch, up a tree, not at all.

She likes those days most of all, when she’s tired to the bone and then nothing and she wakes up well-rested in Serena’s bed. Because no matter how fast she drives, how far she runs, how far away from Holby she makes it, Bernie always, always wakes up in Serena’s bed where she belongs.

Eventually, she resigns herself to living here, in this loop, where she belongs.

*

It’s been 412 days since she’s fallen asleep beside Serena.

They wake up together every morning but not once, in all those days, has Serena left the hospital. Not once, in all those days, has Bernie taken Serena home. Not once, in all those days, has Bernie taken Serena to bed, to sleep.

Today, Elinor hits Jason and her head on the windscreen and careens into Serena’s unconscious body. None of them survive.

She has to stop this.

She has to stop them.

It’s been 413 days since she last fell asleep beside Serena.

*

She has to stop them getting hurt, she can stop them, Bernie realises, if she stops the conversation that sent Elinor running from the hospital in the first place.

She tries, plays the peacekeeper, bites her tongue; does her best to keep them all in the hospital.

It never works. Elinor always loses her temper. Eventually Bernie loses hers too. 

For all she’s never married Serena, never called Elinor her daughter, she gives a damn good impression of an evil stepmother: tells Elinor exactly what she thinks about her petty, pathetic temper tantrum and the way she speaks to Serena and her obvious need for emotional therapy.

Bernie ignores the shocked, disbelieving look on Serena’s face when she calls Elinor a homophobe and drug addict; promises herself she’ll fix anything she’s just broken, if she gets the chance, if this is what needs to happen to fix something that’s been broken for far too long.

It isn’t: Serena is in the passenger seat when a frantic pedestrian on their way to ED runs in front of the car.

Bernie doesn’t bother scrubbing in for any of them.

*

She tries to keep them away from the hospital. Calls them all in sick. None of them listen. They go to work and Elinor still visits and Jason almost dies.

She invites Elinor out for brunch, convinces Serena she has the day off, that she planned it all to bury the hatchet.

She isn’t surprised Elinor is late, but she would have expected her to call and cancel, or at least pick up the phone. They wait till 1:30 before giving up. They pick up some coffee and pastries on the way out and spend the afternoon spoiling each other rotten on the living room floor. Jason’s not back till 6.

There’s a knock at 5:01. Bernie opens the front door to two women in blue. They regret to inform her that Elinor Campbell was in a road traffic accident earlier that day, a multi-car pile up. She was dead before the paramedics arrived on the scene.

‘We’re very sorry for your loss.’

Bernie thought she hadn’t any heart left to break. She was wrong. The wail that comes out of Serena is like nothing Bernie has ever heard and another part of her dies too.

*

She convinces Serena to stay with her one day, away from the hospital, with her fingers and mouth and silver tongue.

‘We’ll never make it out of bed at this rate.’

Good. If she has her way Serena would never leave this bed again.

‘Sounds marvellous, let's do that.’

‘Stop it you, we’ll be late.’

‘Who cares?’

‘Bernie!’

She also enlists the aid of a pair of very fluffy handcuffs Sian bought them for Christmas.

‘Bernie, what on Earth!’ Serena pulls on the cuffs and looks at Bernie, bewildered.

‘I got you the day off,’ she lies, nuzzling into Serena’s neck. ‘To make up for missing your birthday. It’s mine soon and I know you’re going to spoil me - don’t lie - and it doesn’t seem fair if I haven’t pampered you first. I thought we could spend the morning in bed, and go anywhere you like this afternoon, and after Jason comes home we’ll go to mine to have a quiet night in, with no telly, if you like?’ Bernie looks up at Serena’s glittering, gobsmacked face; looks at her blinking down at Bernie, disbelieving. ‘Umm, surprise?’

‘You’re mad. Absolutely mad,’ Serena says, beaming, eyes sparkling and smiling bright. ‘You could have given me some warning, you know! You’re just lucky I love you,’ she adds, shuffling to sit up.

Bernie stops her, she hasn’t heard that in so long.

She sobs, eyes burning, buries her forehead in Serena’s neck. Pins her to the bed and says ‘I love you, too.’

*

It’s perfect, the whole day, one shining perfect day.

She spends the whole of it in bed with Serena. Only gets out of it to nick Serena’s phone–she shoots off a text to Elinor: ‘wont be at work today, wanted to let u know jic u might have dropped by later.’ She reads the ‘cheers was thinking of it might drop by tomorrow tho’ and sighs in relief, prays she’ll see Ellie tomorrow–to switch it off before getting back into bed.

The rest of the morning is spent trying every sweet, delicious thing she’s ever thought of, the early afternoon on every filthy, vicious want she’d never been brave enough to ask for, till her mind goes fuzzy and she can barely more.

She's never ached so good.

She makes them breakfast in bed mid-afternoon: feeds Serena a syrup covered strawberry, licks the maple from the corner of her mouth, kisses the taste of french toast from her tongue.

Bernie sinks back into the mattress, against the soft of the pillows and the warm of the sheets, and wonders why it took her so long to figure this out, wonders if they could have spent all this time reliving their perfect day.

She looks at Serena hovering over her, eyes sparkling and smiling bright, and can’t feel anything other than gratitude, to have finally figured it out, to have this now, to be able to have this again.

It’s not enough, but it is something. And that will have to be enough.

*

Their bodies give out soon after and they nap until Serena’s alarm goes off.

They pick Jason up from work and pick up dinner on the way. They explain that they won’t be in the house tonight, reason that them being elsewhere won’t interfere with any of his schedules. He’s not pleased about the last minute addendum to his night and sulks a little.

Bernie can’t bring herself to care, not today, not after today.

She tells Serena to call Ellie, when they drop Jason home, to ask if she’s coming to see her tomorrow, asks Serena to see how she is. Serena hangs up mumbling about Elinor being ‘her usual irritating self’ and Bernie breathes a sigh of relief, lets out the tension she’s been holding for months, feels lighter than she has in years.

She leans across the gearstick, takes Serena’s hand, kisses Serena’s cheek.

‘She’ll come round,’ Bernie reassures her, thinking about tomorrow. If they have the time, they’re bound to figure it out, she knows they will. ‘I’m sure of it.’

Serena smiles and nods and keeps hold of Bernie’s hand the whole trip to her flat.

They curl up on the couch, parcels of fish and chips in their laps, and the tang of vinegar in their noses. They smile at each other in between mouthfuls, after every sip of wine, before every stolen chip.

Bernie scrunches up the newspaper, wipes her greasy hands dry, and dumps the ball on the coffee table to deal with later. Looks up at Serena finishing the last of her cod and says ‘I love you’ for the dozenth time today.

Serena pins her with a stare. ‘What’s your game?’ she asks suspiciously. ‘You’re not angling for a dog or anything, are you? Because anyone would think you were trying to bribe me…’ she trails off with a smile as Bernie shakes her head.

‘No game. I’ve got everything I want,’ Bernie replies innocently, grinning wide. ‘Well, mostly,’ she adds, glint in her eye as she smooths her palm over Serena’s hip.

Serena giggles, swats at Bernie’s shoulder, calls her a sap and kisses her soundly.

‘Well, we can’t leave you wanting, can we,’ she mumbles against Bernie’s lips when she breaks away. ‘I think it’s time you took me to bed, Ms. Wolfe.’

Bernie does: leads her up the hall and into the bedroom and makes love to her till neither of them can bear to move. She tells her she loves her one last time, as she curls up behind her her, before drifting off with a smile on her face.

She falls asleep excited to wake up in her own bed, ready to live out the first day of the rest of her life.

*

She wakes up the next morning in Serena’s bed.


End file.
